Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Liberia and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing E-Dancer to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young & Crazy Horse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Kerri Chandler,
Gang of Four,
Lou Reed,
The Standells,
Theoretical Girls,
Fear,
The United States of America,
Radio Birdman,
Iggy Pop,
The Tremeloes,
Loose Ends,
The Barracudas,
Quantec,
Susan Cadogan,
CMW,
Monolake,
The Happenings,
Quando Quango,
the Sonics,
PIL,
Soul Sonic Force,
Darondo,
John Coltrane,
Organ,
DJ Sneak,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dark Day,
Magazine,
Josef K,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
H. Thieme,
Blancmange,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fortunes,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tres Demented,
The American Breed,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Angry Samoans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Deepchord,
Chris & Cosey,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
X-102,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Robert Hood,
The Real Kids,
The Dead C,
Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
Don Cherry,
The Smoke,
the Germs,
Davy DMX,
Crooked Eye,
Stetsasonic,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
F. McDonald,
Gregory Isaacs,
This Heat,
Alphaville,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.